


Zenithal Catastrophe

by wasabi_girl1



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: General, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-15
Updated: 2010-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasabi_girl1/pseuds/wasabi_girl1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even heroes can never escape their own sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise Of The Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> I have taken up the challenge at the 7-deadly-sins community on Livejournal, and I have chosen Heroes as my claim. I will be going through each of the seven sins. I have never written Heroes fic before, so please be kind, and all feedback is highly appreciated. Please read and review!

6\. Lust

Rise Of The Phoenix

"You shouldn't be here." Niki Sanders whispered thickly into his ear and immediately wondered how he had gotten so close to her so soon. Everything was happening so fast.

DL was gone. He had taken Micah to school. This was all deliberate. She had been processed and planned, just like everything else in his life.

"Nathan, you need to leave." She ordered, this time with more audacity.

But he would not relent. The way his eyes pierced through her skin, lighting her on fire. He devoured her whole body with his gaze. Slowly, she could feel herself going under; she was drowning in his desires.

Nathan Petrelli touched her then, tentatively, but she did not resist. She did not back away. And so he did not hesitate. Softly, leisurely, he moved his fingers; he traced her collarbone before bringing his mouth to hers. He drank her in with a tenderness she was certain she had never felt before. She found herself surrendering to his touch.

Niki moaned throatily as she felt his hand beneath her skirt, stroking her thigh. Reaching higher and higher as she felt herself losing control. Falling deeper and deeper. Nathan pulled her closer, breathing in her perfume; memorizing her scent. So familiar. The smell of her body had lingered before.

He knew exactly where to touch her, she realized, almost as if he had done this before…

Something bubbled in her gut; the heat rose. She simply wanted to give in to the overwhelming sensation. She needed to let loose. Dark and cruel.

Nathan paused as Niki pushed him back slightly. The look in her eyes had changed. There was no guilt, no pleasure. Only pure unbridled fear. He had crossed the line and now he needed to reel her back in.

He removed his hands from her splendour, untangling his body from hers. This could wait. It would have to. He turned to leave without uttering a word.

"Where are you going, Nathan?" What now?

He gave her a polite smile, the one he had used over and over during his campaigning, every time he faced the camera.

"Now you have two choices: you tell your husband and he beats the shit out of me, or…" He grazed her cheek one last time before letting go. "You know where you can find me."

Niki watched him leave and felt her composure return. And she waited. Waited until everything returned to normal. Waited for life to continue. For the memory to fade. But as she stood she knew that her world would never be the same. Not until she changed it. It was up to her to fix. To make it better, instantly. She had to make it right.

She knew exactly what she had to do. So as she stepped out the door, she never looked back.


	2. The Battle of One

5\. Envy

The Battle of One

The emotions I feel rushing back are not what I had expected. As I first encounter my past self and my long-deceased friend Ando, it is not joy that courses through my veins.

Anger, regret, longing. Resentment, jealousy. Envy. The man standing in front of me, my former self, is blissfully unaware of the tragedies that will soon shape his life.

Even as my past self is caught, he urges Ando to run for his life, to get away. Just as I would have done. I had once been selfless and daring. Now my days and nights are overcome by my quest to change the past. My quest to right my wrongs. My quest to save Ando.

As much as I would like to believe my search is altruistic, I know deep in my heart that I am only doing it for myself.

I still need him.

* * *

"Hey, what about me?" Ando asks curiously. "What happened to me? Where am I? Am I rich? Married?"

I can't speak the words. Not now. It's much too hard. I can barely admit the truth to myself, how can I tell him?

"I can't tell you that." I reply grimly.

"Why not?"

"Because…the whole space-time continuum might explode because you were impatient." I crack a smile for the first time in years.

Ando chuckles and my heart aches. "So, my friend is still in there."

A million thoughts cross my mind as I watch him. We had so little time together, and I was left to suffer the burden of loneliness. I was left to question the secret of our shattered souls.

"There's something I need to tell you." Something I never had the courage to understand when it counted. Something I had waited years to say. Something that I want him to know now.

The words never escape my lips.

* * *

I watch my past self and Ando reunite, but this time I can only repent. Their bliss is my bliss. But he is not my Ando. His is another lifetime.

And they need to get back. They have to fix my mistakes.

"You need to go back now." I order them. "I'll take you."

Maybe my whole life had led up to this moment. As I feel a bullet pierce my chest, my only thought is that I am glad. I am glad I took the shot for them. For him.

"No!" My younger self cries out in anguish. He kneels and looks at me in panic.

I lean in closer to my former self, my past, and give him the only advice I have. I leave him with one sole whisper.

"Take care of him."


	3. Nebulous Faiths

3\. Wrath

Nebulous Faiths

"Did my DNA help?" Sylar asks Mohinder hopefully. He is disappointed to see defeat spread across Mohinder's face as he sighs.

"No."

"Okay, well, Mohinder, you've been driving all night. Why don't you just take a break?" He contemplates the fact that these are the nicest words he has spoken in a long time. Kindness does not come to him so easily.

But Mohinder shakes his head. "I can't. These people are in danger. We have to warn them. If Sylar gets to them first –"

"Exactly." Sylar cuts in. "I mean, here…I mean, this one's in New York. I'll, uh, Isaac Mendez…I'll call him. And you just relax. Just take a minute."

Mohinder smiles slightly. "You're very kind, Zane. Thank you."

Sylar instantly wishes the gratitude was meant for him, not his wonted façade.

He spreads his soul out in front of this man he hardly knows, this man who hardly knows him at all. "You have no idea how alone I used to feel. How insignificant. You've given me hope."

"Hope is great. We need caffeine." Mohinder agrees as he fills their cups.

"So this formula, if you figure it out, how many of us will you find?"

"Who knows? Hundreds, thousands, maybe more."

Sylar goes to call their next target. Victim. But all he gets is a busy signal. "I'll get him later." He announces to Mohinder, taking the cup that is offered to him.

"To new friends." Sylar declares with the shadow of a smile. He has Mohinder on his side now. Soon enough, with Mohinder's help, Sylar would have all the power he needed. All the "friends" he would ever want.

"This is good." Sylar notes. "What is it?"

"Chai. It's a special blend my father brought from India."

"Who are we going to call next?" Sylar asks eagerly, dismissively.

Mohinder stops him short. "No one." Mohinder turns to look him in the eye, and in that moment, Sylar feels chills claw at the back of his neck.

"I already have you, Mr. Sylar."

Only when the dream begins to fall apart and the floor rushes up at him much too quickly does Sylar realize his reliance has led him astray.

* * *

As Sylar regains his consciousness, he finds himself tied to a chair and hooked up to an IV. Mohinder had been planning all of this. Sylar can not help feeling reluctantly impressed.

"I can't feel my fingers." He grunts.

"It's the curare. It induces paralysis of the brain. Which means you can't control your abilities." Mohinder explains. The man has obviously done his homework.

"Whoever you think I am, I'm not." Sylar insists.

"You are the man that murdered my father. Do you still expect me to believe you're Zane Taylor?" Mohinder turns the laptop to show Sylar an article. _Young Musician Found Slain._ "Zane was killed three days ago, the same day I met you. And you thought you were so clever giving me his DNA."

Sylar watches with curiousity as Mohinder takes out a tuning fork. He notices Mohinder's good-natured face turn to one of sheer malice.

"You're a parasite. You killed my father and fed off of his work."

Mohinder hits the tuning fork against the table and holds it up to Sylar's ear. Sylar screams in agony as the amplified sound numbs his thoughts.

"Let me hear it. Tell me your name!" Mohinder shouts as Sylar groans in agony.

Mohinder relishes the feeling. He is not a vengeful man, but having such power over this killer sends him into a feverish reverie. There's no stopping him now. The anger pours out with a devilish fervour.

"Say it! I want to hear you say it!"

He gives in. "Sylar!"

Mohinder replaces the tuning fork in his hand with a gun. "There's only one thing to do with a parasite. Kill it before it kills again."

Sylar knows he will be a dead man if he doesn't think fast. So he takes the name of the only person who can break Mohinder's composure. "You're just like your father; murderers, the both of you."

"I'm a scientist."

Sylar chuckles, all decency far behind him. "Your father said that, but he kept leading me to them."

"He had no idea what you were."

"He knew. He might not have admitted it, but after all, we were making so much progress together, why would he stop?"

"You know nothing about my father!" Mohinder cries out and Sylar revels in his pain and anguish. His rage.

Mohinder cocks the gun at Sylar, but he won't give up.

"I know everything. He confided in me. He told me things he felt he could never tell you. Things about your sister…Shanti." The anger swells, Sylar can see it in Mohinder's eyes. "He thought you were too, what's the word, fragile to know the truth."

Mohinder seethes and puts the barrel of the gun against Sylar's forehead.

"That's why he liked me. You were always seeking his approval, while I provided stimulation. He gave up on you, but he adored me. Now who's the real parasite here?"

Mohinder stops, lowering his gun. No, he won't let Sylar's mind games manipulate him. The man will be dead soon enough, but for now he needs him alive.

"You're right. My father did want answers. He called you Patient Zero. You're the template he used to create this formula. You're the key to unlocking his secret."

Two can play at this game.

"As much as I'd like to, killing you will not give me what I need."

Sylar sees Mohinder taking out a large syringe. "So what are you going to do?"

Mohinder gives a lop-sided grin and the look in his eyes is fierce. Sylar never knows what to expect.

"I'm going to take a sample of your spinal fluid."

Mohinder leans in close to Sylar, nearing his ear. Sylar is overcome with a powerful urge to shiver in bittersweet delight. But he will not show weakness now.

"And it's going to hurt." Mohinder whispers lightly.

Sylar silently laments as Mohinder pulls away. "You might actually do some good before you die."

Pain mixes with the heady desire as Mohinder pushes Sylar's head forward and sinks the needle into the back of his neck.

All Sylar can do is scream.

* * *

"I finally found it. That's it; these four simple genes, they answer everything. Now, I…I can make a new list. I can find them, save them." Mohinder stares in amazement at his laptop. It is the breakthrough he has been working so hard for.

Sylar lowers his voice. "And what about me? Don't I deserve to be saved? Aren't I just…a victim too? I didn't ask for this."

"And what would you have me do?" Mohinder is amazed that he is even willing to listen. This man killed his father. Yet, isn't everyone capable of redemption?

"Help find a way. Give me salvation. Give me that damn list so I can sink my teeth in!" Sylar snarls.

Mohinder stands and Sylar begins to backtrack. He tries his best to salvage the situation. "I'm a natural progression of the species. Evolution is a part of nature, and nature kills. Simple, right?"

There will be no pity. "What you've done is not evolution, it's murder. What I am doing is revenge. Now I can fulfill my duty as a son."

Mohinder raises his gun at Sylar and fires, but the bullet stops mid-air and drops. Mohinder can only watch in wonder.

Sylar feels charged, on fire. This game they play fuels his soul.

"I wasn't begging for my life. I was offering you yours." The binds around Sylar's wrists snap off. How quickly the tables turn.

"You are your father's son. So determined, you didn't even notice I stopped the IV."

Sylar understands now. Mohinder is a nobody. He will never receive the gifts that Sylar so easily possesses. He is nothing special and never was. He is only another obstacle. So he must die.

Sylar has never felt such satisfaction, such rage.

"But don't worry, you might actually do some good before you die."


	4. Inertia

4\. Sloth

Inertia

Peter Petrelli stands at the doorway. Simone Deveaux tends carefully to her father, the inimitable Charles Deveaux. He watches as the father endeavours to make his daughter smile and laugh in any way possible, to ensure that she does not let the weight of his condition sour the last weeks they have together.

Peter knows he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he is just a little bit jealous. Even with death at his door, Charles is a better father to Simone than Peter's own father had ever been. Hell, Charles had been a better father to Peter in the last few months than his real father had ever been.

But the companionship shared with the older man isn't the only reason Peter finds himself spending more and more time at the Deveaux building.

Peter watches Simone smile warmly at her father, with tears still present in her eyes. She is fighting to put on a brave front for Charles, but they all know that the moment he passes on…

Peter would be there for her, till the very end.

Simone looks up from her father's bedside and spots Peter. She grins and winks at him as Peter feels his breath catch in his throat.

"You get some sleep, dad. Peter and I will be just around the corner."

"Alright, but you two better not talk about me. It's rude to talk about someone while they're sleeping in the next room."

Simone places a kiss on her father's cheek. "And it's rude for a patient to stop his nurse from giving his daughter an update on his condition." Charles sighs and shrugs dramatically, finally giving in to Simone's demands to sleep.

Simone makes her way into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Hey." Peter greets her.

"Hi." She studies him, looking at him with concern. "Are you alright? You look… are you sure you need to be here right now? Dad's doing fine at the moment, and you've been over so much lately, Peter. You should go home and get some rest."

But Peter wasn't here for Charles. Not this time.

"Actually, I had a question for you."

"A question? For me? What is it?"

It would be so simple to just ask her out. Just a cup of coffee at the cafe down the street. All he has to do is let the words come out of his mouth, for once. Instead of letting it fester in his brain.

"Simone?"

"Yeah, Pete?"

It's just a cup of coffee, no big deal. They are friends, aren't they? At the very least?

"Nothing. Never mind."

But Peter decides against voicing his true feelings. Again. He can almost hear Nathan's voice in his head telling him that he's lazy for not even trying.

Peter sighs. He has no one to blame but himself. "You're right, it's getting late. I better head home. Good night."

Another lonely night.

"Good night Peter."


	5. Hard Candy

2\. Gluttony

Hard Candy

Micah and Molly slouched on the couch flipping quickly through channels on TV.

"I'm bored." Molly complained as Micah sighed and slumped lower.

"Me too." Micah agreed and then perked up. "Hey wait, I have an idea!"

Micah scurried off and hurried back, his school bag in tow.

"What is it?" Molly asked curiously.

Micah opened his bag and poured the contents onto the floor.

"Candy! Where did you get this all from?" Molly asked incredulously.

Micah grinned at her. "Let's just say that I have a way with candy machines…"

Molly's eyes widened. "You used your power? Micah, you know that's wrong!"

"It was just this once." Micah shrugged. "C'mon, dig in."

Molly watched Micah carefully as he unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a bite out of it. She had to admit that it looked too good to pass up, so she joined him.

The pile of candy was gone within a matter of minutes.

* * *

DL let his shoulders fall as he walked through the front door. He had had a long and hard day and now all he wanted to do was waste his evening away watching TV.

"Micah?" DL called out, looking around the house for his son. Instead all he found was a pile of candy wrappers on the floor.

"Oh no."

"I found him!" Came a giggle from outside. DL followed the sound and found Molly and Micah on the back porch.

"What are you two doing out here?"

"Shh!" Micah silenced his father. "We're having fun."

DL noticed another pile of items on the ground in disarray and gave Micah a warning look. "Son…"

"I'm tracking the neighbours." Molly announced.

DL shot her a look. "What? Why?"

"As soon as they're out of the house we grab something. Anything. We want to see how long it takes them to notice." Micah explained. "And there's no way we'll get caught, I know my way around every type of security system."

DL eyes widened as he realized what they were up to. "You're stealing!"

Micah and Molly laughed louder than was necessary. DL lowered his voice and settled into a serious tone. "You know you can't do this. You can't mess around with your powers just for fun."

"Relax, dad. We'll put all of their stuff back when we're done with it." Micah replied simply.

Molly perked up. "The Stevensons just left their house!" Immediately Micah and Molly bolted, making their way down the street.

DL sighed and began chasing after them. A kid on a sugar rush was bad enough, but two kids with special powers on a sugar rush? DL was in for a long night…


	6. Heaven Only Knows

7\. Pride

Heaven Only Knows

Claire looks lost for a moment as she stands up on stage. She scans the faces in

the crowd until she settles upon her father. Bennet smiles warmly at her and she grins back, regaining all of her missing confidence.

Soon enough, the lights are turned up and the music begins to play. Bennet watches as his 13-year-old daughter brings the show to life while she dances on stage. A whole chorus line of girls are working hard behind her, but this is Claire's solo piece and she shines brighter than anyone else.

Bennet watches her and he cannot help but feel pride well up in the pit of his stomach. His daughter, his little angel, his Claire Bear; she's growing up so fast. She's becoming a young woman and he couldn't be more proud of who she has become.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Bennet realizes something that he has known all along. She is **his** daughter and no one else's. Regardless of what happens, whether or not she has powers, he is going to keep her. He will do everything in his power to keep her.

As long as Claire is safe, nothing else matters.

She is smiling brightly now as she finishes her routine and takes a bow. The audience is clapping loudly and he is cheering loudest if all. Like any good father would.

Bennet understands just how attached he has become. He loves her more than he realized a father can love a daughter. He did not think he would have such a strong bond with her when she was first given to him over thirteen years ago, but he knows that he will fight until his dying breath to keep her from their clutches. Bennet knows that if it is her he is protecting, he will have the strength.

He can do this. Whatever it may be. He promises himself that he will never let them take her. Anyone. No matter what.


	7. Unforgiving Precision On Display

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my final chapter for this challenge. It was quite fun while it lasted, but I think my Heroes inspiration died out quite a while ago. I'm proud of what I've written, but I doubt I'll be writing more Heroes fic. Thanks to everyone who read it and I hope it was good. :)

1\. Greed

Unforgiving Precision On Display

Matt Parkman feels the heaviness of the diamonds weighing him down as they lie in his pocket.

_What have I done?_ He thinks to himself, fearfully. Stealing isn't his usual modus operandi. _What has gotten into me?_ He's a **cop**, not some kind of petty thief.

Parkman fingers the bag in his pocket and scowls. He **was** a cop. He's not anymore. _I'm out of a job because they won't believe me. No one will ever believe me._ Maybe this is the universe's way of finally bringing him retribution. He has a wife to take care of, a baby on the way.

_I need this._ Parkman attempts to convince himself.

Turning the corner onto another busy city street, he is unable to look anyone in the eyes. As if the moment they look straight at him, they will somehow know exactly what he has done. As if they can read his mind just like he can read theirs.

_What I'm doing is right._ Parkman pushes on. _I have these powers now. I need to use them to better myself. I can't keep letting the world trample all over me._

Lost deep in his thoughts, he does not manage to see the long-haired unshaven man take a step directly in front of him. They collide unceremoniously on the sidewalk.

"Watch it!" Parkman barks out irrationally, flustered by the sudden break from his unholy thoughts.

He is immediately ashamed at his own misguided anger and reaches out to help the other man pick up the picture he had been carrying that now lies on the ground.

But Parkman stops in his tracks when he sees what it is a painting of.

He sees a familiar scene staring back at him; a greedy man at the end of his rope stashing a stolen bag of diamonds into his pocket and never turning back.

He sees himself in a way he has never been able to see himself before.

He sees a coward instead of a man.

Parkman opens his mouth and looks to the man who is now staring at him as if he is a ghost. But he has no words left. _How does he know me?_

Before either can move, Parkman begins to hear a familiar ringing in his ears. Voices that are not his own.

_His selfishness, I can see it on his face. _Parkman blinks in shock. _He is afraid, I can sense it._ He just wants it all to stop. _I've seen this all before._ Parkman doesn't want to understand what he is hearing. _He is nothing but a thief._

Parkman doesn't even need the thoughts to tell him, he can see the vile judgement clear in the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry." Parkman mumbles to him awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Mr. –"

"Isaac." The other man holds out his hand graciously. "Isaac Mendez. And you are?"

Matt Parkman has never been so ashamed. "Nobody. Never mind." He hands Isaac the painting. "Sorry once again."

Parkman leaves the scene as fast as he possibly can, leaving Isaac Mendez in his dust, in his past. He will never see the man again.

Only in his nightmares.

Matt Parkman somehow arrives back in his home. Janice is nowhere in sight, and he is thankful. He wouldn't be able to face her now.

He stashes the bag of diamonds in a drawer the first chance he has. Because he is unable to even look at them.

But all the same, he is also unable to get rid of them.


End file.
